


shine like stars

by defcontwo



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, unrepentant batfam fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim forgets his birthday. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shine like stars

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure that I've reached a point where almost everything I write is set in Li'l Gotham continuity.

It’s nearing eight in the morning and Tim definitely hasn’t slept yet, as he sits cross-legged on his living room floor, surrounded by wires and consoles as he tinkers with some of his old computer parts. 

There’s a knock on his door suddenly and he figures it must be Cass - she’s the only one who ever actually knocks, for all that she’s also the only one who could let herself in without him ever knowing the wiser. 

Tim stretches his neck as he jogs down the steps to the front door and winces at the cracking noise - how long had he been sitting there tinkering again? 

The bright morning sunshine streams in through his windows and he’s definitely gonna need a few pots of coffee before he makes it into the office this morning. 

He swings open his front door and discovers that he was right - Cass is standing on the other side, a small pastry box in one hand and car keys in the other. Behind her, he sees Bruce’s favorite convertible parked at the curb and he smirks a little because of course Bruce let her borrow it - Bruce has been going out of his way to make vaguely awkward gestures to let Cass know that she’s family and that he wants her to stay in Gotham, for all that he can’t actually come out and say the words. 

“Hey Cass, what’s up?” 

Cass tilts her head a little, assessing him in that way of hers, before she lets out a little laugh. “You did it again, didn’t you?” 

“Did what?” 

“Tim, what’s today?” 

“...Friday?” 

Cass shakes her head at him, a fond smile tugging at the edges of her lips, before holding out the pastry box for him to open.

Tim flips up the box’s top flap find a cupcake inside with an unlit candle on top. “Oh shit, it’s my birthday.” 

“Come on, we’re going on a road trip,” Cass says, gesturing towards the car. 

“Cass, I can’t just ditch out on a road trip, I have to work today.”

Cass just folds her arms across her chest and gives him a deeply unimpressed look, the kind of look that lets him know that if he doesn’t do as she says, she’s gonna make him do it. 

And he already knows she can kick his ass, so he might as well make it easy on himself. 

Tim looks down at himself - he’s wearing worn old jeans covered in grease stains from working on the Ducati and a Gotham Knights t-shirt with a faded logo and a hole in the armpit that he keeps telling himself that he’s gonna fix but never, ever does. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to go out and about just dressed like a normal person, like he’s comfortable - it’s always Tim Wayne, executive and heir, and he is suddenly so, _so_ tired of it. 

“I don’t have to change, do I?” 

Cass snorts. “Get your shoes, Tim.” 

Tim shuffles inside, shucking on his old chucks before grabbing his wallet, keys, phone, and on last thought, his camera. 

“Lead the way, fearless leader,” Tim says, locking his front door behind him and then making his way to the convertible. “Exactly how quickly did Bruce fold when you asked him to borrow the convertible?” 

Cass smirks, and it’s a little shark-like, when she says, “Less than forty-five seconds.” 

“Knew it,” Tim says, settling into the car. “He’s way more transparent than he thinks he is.” 

He flips up the pastry box again to get a better look at the cupcake as Cass starts up the car. “Is this a carrot cake cupcake? See, this is why you’re my favorite sibling.” 

“I know.” 

“So, where are we going?” 

“Surprise,” Cass says simply. 

“You think I won’t figure it out as we go?”

“You’re going to make it halfway through that cupcake before passing out due to lack of sleep.” 

Tim scowls at her, even as his eyes start to feel even heavier, because he knows she’s right. “Hey, maybe I’ll make it all the way through the cupcake.” 

Cass gives a little half-shrug. “If you say so.” 

(He doesn’t). 

\+ 

When Tim wakes up, the other half of his cupcake is smooshed into the floor of the convertible beneath him and Bruce is pretty much going to kill him for that, and he’s drooled a little in his sleep. 

He looks over and Cass looks like she’s trying very hard not to laugh at him. 

“Rise and shine, Tim. We’re here.” 

Here turns out to be the boardwalk, already teeming with families and young kids running everywhere, enjoying the summer sun. 

The last time he was here, he was ten and his parents took him on one of the few times they were back in the country and remembered to do something with him. His mother had stepped up to try and win him a stuffed animal at a shooting booth and then grumbled about rigged systems when she lost. 

The memory should make him more sad than anything but he’s learned to focus on the good parts instead of the bad lately - it’s been one of the hardest lessons he’s ever had to learn, harder than hand to hand combat, harder than any of Bruce’s training. But the alternative is never being able to move forward and he’s more than a little bit sick of that. 

“What made you choose the boardwalk?” 

“I’ve never been,” Cass answers. 

“Oh, I see how it is. My birthday was just a clever excuse.” 

“Pretty much,” Cass says, swinging the car into a spot in the lot and putting it in park. 

The thing about spending time with Cass is, she’s quiet. There was a time when that unnerved him - how she knows body language the way he knows spoken word, the way he knows English and German and Russian. It always made him question what he was saying to her without even knowing it. It made him wonder if there was some darker truth about him that only she could see. 

After a while, he realized that so much of that was a personal hang up. Bruce had taught him to always second guess people and wonder at their ulterior motives and it’s a lesson that sometimes he takes to a little too well, but Cass is genuine in a way that so few people are. Now, it’s comfortable to have someone that he can count on to just be silent with for a while, to know that nothing really needs to be said for them to understand one another. 

They take their time, ambling around for hours and taking in the sights. They stop about as many times for Cass to point something out that she’s never seen in person before as they do for Tim to stop and snap a picture. 

“Hey,” Tim says, pointing across the way. “Rumor has it that that’s the scariest rollercoaster in the entire state.”

Cass raises an eyebrow at him. “Challenge?” 

“You bet.” 

They make their way to the line, Cass stopping at the height requirement sign. “You might be too short for this.” 

“Oh har har,” Tim says, but he’s grinning as he pays for their tickets. 

He doesn’t expect the roller coaster to be much of an experience for two people who routinely spend their lives jumping off of high rise buildings but it’s a fun sort of sociological experiment, seeing all the people lining up to get their thrill, to have their moment at the top before crashing down. In a weird sort of way, it makes him feel closer to civilians in a way that he often doesn’t. 

They both laugh on their way down because it may not be scary but it sure is a hell of a lot of fun. 

After, Tim turns to Cass. “Well?” 

She shrugs, all contained amusement. “Boring. Give me a challenge.” 

Over her shoulder, Tim spies a shooting range booth. “I’ve got one for you.” 

They walk up to the booth, feigning a couple of clueless teenagers. “So, I just shoot and hit the targets and win you a stuffed animal?” 

“Personally, I’ve got my eye on the giant stuffed polar bear,” Tim says. “Don’t forget, it _is_ my birthday.” 

“That’s the top prize, I wouldn’t hold your breath,” the man running the booth says, handing Cass the game rifle. 

Cass makes every shot neatly, six in a row, before setting the rifle down on the booth counter. “The polar bear, please.” 

“How did you - that’s not - “ 

“My sister’s a crack shot, what can I say,” Tim says, and he laughs as Cass brandishes the polar bear around like a trophy before shoving it at him. 

“My hero,” he says, accepting the stuffed animal that’s almost as big as he is. 

“What are you going to do with that?” Cass asks. 

Tim rearranges his camera strap before holding the polar bear out in front of him. “I was thinking I’d sneak it into Damian’s room in the middle of the night and see what happens.” 

“He’d stab it.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we, Knut?” 

“You named it?” 

“Of course. Knut, like that polar bear on the news in Germany.” 

“Now you really can’t let Damian stab it.” Cass shifts her feet a little and eyes the setting sun in the distance, as Tim realizes just how long they’ve been out here. “We should be heading back.” 

“ _Should we_ ,” Tim says and then, “oh crap, Dick’s throwing me a party, isn’t he.” 

“Act surprised,” Cass says. 

“Is that was this was all about? Orders to keep me distracted?” 

Cass shakes her head. “Not orders. My idea.” 

“There’s gonna be a lot of aggressive birthday cuddling, isn’t there.” 

Cass nods. “Jason wanted to make his own fireworks. Steph talked him out of it.” 

“Did she really or did he just do that thing where he pretends he’s gonna do what we say and then he does exactly whatever he wants to do regardless?” 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Cass says, in a tone of voice that makes Tim think that they’re gonna wind up calling the fire department later that night because Jason’s fireworks set fire to the gardens. 

Tim laughs because he has to. 

He bumps his shoulder against Cass’s lightly. “Hey. Thanks for today.” 

Cass wraps him in a half-hug, awkward stuffed polar bear and all. 

“Happy birthday, Tim.”


End file.
